


even when we're ghosts

by fabrega



Series: SALTapalooza [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 07:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/pseuds/fabrega
Summary: "I don't want to hurt you," the man says, not taking his eyes off Reaper. He looks tired. He looks hurt. He looks...familiar, although Reaper doesn't know why."You haven't," Reaper says, "And you won't. Who are you? Why don't I know where I am?"





	even when we're ghosts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smarshtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/gifts).



> Week One of [SALTapalooza](https://saltapalooza.tumblr.com/)! Hello and welcome to this craziness, everybody. This is a fourteen part series that will update every Saturday for the next thirteen weeks. Feel free to come yell at [me](https://twitter.com/carithlee) or [smarshtastic](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic/) about this on twitter. :D

When Reaper wakes up, he doesn't know where he is. The room he's in is strange, lived-in, nothing like his quarters at the Talon base. There's a big window across from the bed, and sunlight streams into the room through a crack in the curtains. He counts three doors: a closet, a bathroom, and what's presumably the rest of the base. The bed is big, bigger than the one Talon had given him, and--it's not empty either. Reaper can hear somebody else in the room breathing, and the mattress shifts.

In an instant, Reaper is on the stranger, fingers wrapped around his neck. The man flails awake, gasping, his eyes wide. 

"Gabe!" the man manages to croak out through Reaper's grip. Reaper looks around for this 'Gabe'. The man's words were weak enough that it's unlikely his backup even heard him, but it never hurts to be cautious.

The man struggles under Reaper's hands for a long moment before clamping his own metal fingers around Reaper's wrist. The pressure is intense, unpleasant enough to make Reaper relinquish his grip in the moment; it's nothing Reaper won't be able to shake off, and he knows that the man is holding back.

Now free, the man scrambles out of the bed and puts some distance between the two of them. He stands between Reaper and the room's exit, his hand hovering above a weapon on the dresser.

"I don't want to hurt you," the man says, his voice rasping as he prods with one hand at where the bruises will undoubtedly form on his throat. He doesn't move the hand above his weapon, and he doesn't take his eyes off Reaper. He looks tired. He looks hurt. He looks... _familiar_ , although Reaper doesn't know why.

"You haven't," Reaper says, "And you won't. Who are you? Why don't I know where I am?"

The man's face does something complicated that Reaper can't follow and doesn't care to. "I'm... I'm your partner."

Reaper scoffs. "Talon doesn't give me _partners_. I lead my team, or I work alone. Who are you?"

"Jesse McCree," the man says. Reaper smirks as McCree raises his free hand to jokingly tip an imaginary hat. "And you're the Talon operative known as the Reaper, yes?"

"Shouldn't you know--"

"Yes or no." 

Something about McCree's voice makes Reaper want to answer him, and he nods. "Yes."

"There's a briefing for you, on the tablet over there." McCree gestures behind Reaper, and Reaper turns carefully to see a desk and chair up against the room's far wall. "You look at that. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

Reaper knows he's not supposed to ask questions about mission briefings, so he holds his tongue for now. McCree picks up his gun and backs out of the room, still never taking his eyes off Reaper. 

Once McCree is gone and the door is closed behind him, Reaper makes his way over to the desk. Like McCree had said, there's a tablet there labeled REAPER BRIEFING. Reaper takes a seat at the desk and thumbs the tablet on.

A vid pops up. As is Talon protocol, it shows two dates at the beginning, the day the briefing first became available and the current day; here, it reads 2079/01/18 and 2079/03/10. Those dates don't seem right, but neither does what's currently happening in his brain, so he sets the worry aside for now. Then the briefing starts, but there's nothing there, just a mostly blank background that might actually be one of the walls of this bedroom. 

Somewhere off camera, he can hear McCree's voice faintly: _No, no, this is your own business with yourself. If I know what's on there, it...complicates things. I trust you._

And a voice that sounds like his own, much closer to the camera, says: _If you're sure._ There's the sound of a door closing, and then his own face comes into view. He settles into frame, making eye contact with the camera, looking calm.

 _Reaper,_ he says, _I know you probably don't believe this, but I'm you._

Reaper pauses the vid. He gets up, takes the tablet to the bathroom and holds it up next to the mirror, comparing the cracks and scars of the man on the vid with the ones on his own face. If this is somehow a trick, it's a very elaborate one--he can't find any obvious differences between them.

Back at the desk, he starts the vid again.

_I'm going to tell you some things that only you--only I--would know, so maybe you'll believe me. You had a crush in grade school on a kid named Michael; you found out later he died in the Crisis when the omnics made that last desperate push in California. The first year of Blackwatch, you used your salary to pay for three agents Morrison said you weren't allowed to have and didn't tell anybody. Your favorite Talon handler to work with is Ava, because she trusts your judgment in the field in a way none of the others seem to, but you won't request her for your ops because you have a strange feeling you can't explain that you can't afford to play favorites again._

Reaper pauses the video again, reeling. The version of him in the vid is right about the Talon handler, and Reaper knows he hasn't told anyone about Ava. Even if he had, the detail about playing favorites, that's something that only he would know. What the hell is going on?

He starts the vid again.

_Hopefully you remember at least one of those. This will be tough otherwise._ The man sighs. _I'm sure you've guessed by now that this isn't a briefing, at least not like you were expecting._

_I should probably start by answering your questions. You're seeing this because something has gone wrong with your memory. It's a side effect of what Talon did to you, and we're still trying to work out what's happening and how best to stop it. You're in a safe house, somewhere Talon can't find you. I know that might not sound like a good idea to you, but trust me, you're here of your own volition, and no one could stop you if you wanted to leave, so you might as well stay put for now._

_The man who's here with you is Jesse McCree. He may have already introduced himself. You've almost certainly hurt him already, because that seems to be how this goes. He's..._ Vid Reaper trails off, a faraway look on his face. _He's here to help you. He's better to us than either of us deserve, honestly._

_Do you remember--no, of course you don't. Back in Blackwatch, we had to take down a cell of omnic terrorists who had a weapon that did, well, basically this, induced amnesia in their human victims. Before our team went in to deal with them, we all recorded messages for ourselves, like this one. McCree called in a bunch of favors and got yours. I'm gonna play it for you now._

The vid jumps a little, and then a face that looks a lot like his own appears. The man in the vid's face is whole, though, with more color in his cheeks and some truly impressive dark circles under his eyes. He looks at the camera, his expression somewhere between matter-of-fact and grim.

 _Your name is Gabe Reyes,_ the man says to the camera. _You're the leader of a black ops group called Blackwatch, and you've lost your memory. There are a lot of things that are important for you to know, but the most important one is this._

Reyes opens a pouch on his chest and pulls out a photo, holding it up to the camera. It's of Jesse McCree--younger, smiling, his face less hollow and his eyes bright, but still recognizably Jesse McCree.

 _This is Jesse. Trust him, and he'll get you through this._ Reyes hesitates, almost imperceptibly, but tries to hide it by tucking the photo back into the pouch on his chest. _You'll find that photo there, so you know I'm you,_ he tells the camera. 

Reaper presses a hand to his chest almost on reflex, looking for the pouch even though he knows it's not there.

Reyes continues: _Trust what I'm telling you, and trust Jesse. You love him. You may not know it in your brain, but you know it in your heart. You love him and he loves you, and the two of you will make it through this together, I promise._

The vid jumps again, and the face that looks like Reaper's is back. He doesn't speak right away, almost like he's giving Reaper a minute to process what had just happened. Eventually, though, he continues.

_You may not remember ever being Gabe; Talon did their hardest to take the true version of your past from you, and there were definitely days, like this one, where they had succeeded. But he is you, the same as I am you. I'm not telling you this to manipulate you. I'm not expecting you to love him, or even to trust him right away. Doing either of those things is unreasonable and impossible, and I can't ask them of you. You shouldn't even pretend to--that's not fair to either of you._

Vid Reaper sighs, a crack on his cheek widening so that a wisp of thick black smoke can escape.

_All I'm asking is that you not do anything rash. Even if you can't remember him, he remembers you, and he loves you--he must, because he's still here. You're going to need that if we're going to make it through this._

The vid shuts off, and Reaper sets the tablet down. He looks around the room, actually looks this time. It's small but lived-in. The bed is big enough for two, with sheets that are worn and soft. The closet doesn't have many clothes in it, just a few of Reaper's coats, a heap of blankets, and a big pile of tac gear. The gear doesn't look like it's organized, but when he starts picking through it, he realizes that it's gear for two people, placed in such a way that both of them could take from the pile simultaneously and not get in each other's way. It's the kind of setup that would only work with a lot of trust and a bone-deep knowledge of another person, though, and Reaper can't imagine ever knowing someone that well.

Maybe the version of him in the briefing is telling the truth.

He gets dressed and goes downstairs, where McCree is waiting, just like he said he'd be. He's still in just his boxers, not having stopped to get dressed before he left the room. He's wearing an apron, and his back is to Reaper as he stands at a slightly rickety-looking stove, hovering over something frying in a pan. Reaper knows this is a test, to see if he can be trusted.

He clears his throat.

"All briefed?" McCree asks glancing over his shoulder at Reaper.

Reaper nods. McCree says nothing further, turning his attention back to the pan.

"The briefing, the vid...it said that I love you."

Reaper watches closely for a reaction, but McCree only shrugs. "Seems like you don't even remember me, let alone love me. Ain't fair of the briefing, to put that on you."

"It said you loved me too," Reaper continues.

McCree's shoulders stiffen this time. "Like I said," he says, a beat or two too late, "Ain't fair of the briefing to put that on you."

"But you do."

McCree nods, still not looking at Reaper. "I do."

*

When Reaper wakes up, he doesn't know where he is. The room he's in is strange, nothing like his quarters at the Talon base. The window across from the bed is letting sunlight into the room, and he counts three doors: a closet, a bathroom, and what's presumably the rest of the base. The bed is big, bigger than the one Talon had given him, and it's not empty either; Reaper can hear somebody else in the room breathing, and the mattress creaks ominously. 

In an instant, Reaper is on the stranger, fingers wrapped around his neck. The man flails awake, gasping, his eyes wide. He struggles under Reaper's hands for a long moment, long enough for Reaper to notice the yellow-green bruises that his fingers slot up against on the man's neck, before clamping his own metal fingers around Reaper's wrist. The pressure there is intense, pressing into a set of bruises that Reaper hadn't noticed on his own skin, and Reaper hisses and withdraws.

Now free, the man scrambles out of the bed and puts some distance between the two of them. He stands between Reaper and the room's exit, his hand hovering above a weapon on the dresser.

"There's a briefing for you on the desk." The man gestures behind Reaper, his voice rasping, and Reaper turns carefully to see a desk and chair up against the room's far wall. 

When Reaper turns back, the man hasn't moved, still poised above his weapon, eyes still on Reaper. He looks hurt. He looks so tired. He looks... _familiar_ , although Reaper doesn't know why.

"You look at that. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

"How do I know aren't going to attack me the minute I turn my back?" Reaper asks him. He's not sure why he even asks; if the man was going to attack, surely he wouldn't give Reaper a straight answer now.

"You don't know that," the man says, shrugging. "Not yet."

As is Talon protocol, the briefing shows two dates at the beginning, the day the briefing first became available and the current day; here, it reads 2079/01/18 and 2079/03/14. Those dates don't seem right, but neither does what's currently happening in his brain, so he sets the worry aside for now. 

The briefing starts: _Reaper, I know you probably don't believe this, but I'm you._

Afterwards, he finds the man, McCree, in the kitchen, seated at the table, a cup of coffee in hand.

Reaper takes a careful seat across from him and waits to see if he will say anything. When he doesn't, Reaper does instead. "The briefing, the vid...it said that I love you."

Reaper watches closely for a reaction, but McCree just lifts the coffee mug to his lips and takes a long sip. "Ain't sure that's a thing somebody can be told. Seems like something you ought to figure out for yourself."

"It said you loved me too."

McCree reaches across the table, his fingers ghosting over the bruises on Reaper's wrist. "I do."

*

When Reaper wakes up, he doesn't know where he is. The room he's in is strange, nothing like his quarters at the Talon base. The window across from the bed is letting sunlight into the room, and the bed is big, bigger than the one Talon had given him. He counts three doors: a closet, a bathroom, and one that's closed. The bed is empty, and he gets up and paces the room, examining every piece of furniture, every nook and cranny, in an attempt to figure out what exactly is going on. 

When he reaches the closed door, he sees the sticky note stuck to it. _BRIEFING IS ON THE DESK,_ it reads, _I'M ON THE SOFA. COME FIND ME WHEN YOU KNOW MY NAME._

Reaper doesn't know anything about a briefing, but he makes his way to the desk, where he finds a tablet labeled REAPER BRIEFING. He thumbs the tablet on.

As is Talon protocol, it shows two dates at the beginning, the day the briefing first became available and the current day; here, it reads 2079/01/18 and 2079/04/19. Those dates don't seem right, but neither does what's currently happening in his brain, so he sets the worry aside for now.

The briefing starts: _Reaper, I know you probably don't believe this, but I'm you._

Afterwards, he goes to find whoever's on the sofa. He checks three different rooms in the safe house before he finds the man, asleep on a couch that's slightly too short for him. His face is older than the one in the photograph Reyes had held up to the camera in the briefing, more weathered and hollower in the cheeks, but still recognizably Jesse McCree. There's something about him... 

Reaper can see how he could have been in love with this man.

He clears his throat, and McCree startles awake. Reaper notices the gun sitting on the end table, and notices too how McCree very deliberately doesn't move to grab it.

"McCree?" Reaper asks, although he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

The man nods. "Reaper?" His tone matches Reaper's, a question he already knows the answer to.

Reaper nods too. He waits to see if McCree will say anything more; when he's greeted with silence, he says, "The briefing, the vid...it said that I hurt you."

McCree laughs, seeming surprised. He tips his head back to show Reaper a set of hand-shaped bruises on his neck. Reaper steps forward, closer to McCree than he means to, his fingers hovering above the bruised pattern of his own grip.

It would be easy, he thinks, so easy to squeeze, to hurt him or even kill him and flee back to Talon, where everything he can remember tells him he ought to be.

McCree doesn't flinch.

"The briefing said I loved you, that I would know it in my heart even if I didn't know it in my brain," Reaper says, withdrawing his hand.

McCree looks up at him seriously. "Well, do you?"

*

When Reaper wakes up, he doesn't know where he is. The room he's in is strange, nothing like his quarters at the Talon base. The window across from the bed is letting sunlight into the room, and he counts three doors: a closet, a bathroom, and what's presumably the rest of the base. The bed is big, bigger than the one Talon had given him, and it's not empty either; Reaper can hear somebody else in the room breathing, and the mattress creaks ominously. 

In an instant, Reaper is on the stranger, fingers wrapped around his neck. The man flails awake, gasping, his eyes wide. He struggles under Reaper's hands for a long moment before clamping his own metal fingers around Reaper's wrist. The pressure is intense, unpleasant enough to make Reaper relinquish his grip in the moment; it's nothing Reaper won't be able to shake off, and he knows that the man is holding back.

Now free, the man scrambles out of the bed and puts some distance between the two of them. He stands between Reaper and the room's exit, his eyes on Reaper, out of reach and unmoving. He looks hurt. He looks so very tired. He looks... _familiar_ , although Reaper doesn't know why.

"There's a briefing for you on the desk." The man gestures behind Reaper, his voice rasping, and Reaper turns carefully to see a desk and chair up against the room's far wall. "You look at that. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

"How do I know aren't going to attack me the minute I turn my back?" Reaper asks him. He's not sure why he even asks; if the man was going to attack, surely he wouldn't give Reaper a straight answer now.

"You don't," the man says, shrugging. "Not yet."

Reaper makes his way over to the desk. Like the man had said, there's a tablet there labeled REAPER BRIEFING. Reaper takes a seat at the desk and thumbs the tablet on.

A vid pops up. As is Talon protocol, it shows two dates at the beginning, the day the briefing first became available and the current day; here, it reads 2079/01/18 and 2079/08/22. Those dates don't seem right, but neither does what's currently happening in his brain, so he sets the worry aside for now. 

The briefing starts: _Reaper, I know you probably don't believe this, but I'm you._

Afterwards, he finds the man, McCree, in the kitchen. His arms are resting on the table; his head is in the crook of one arm, and there's a coffee mug gripped in his other outstretched hand. When Reaper comes in, McCree doesn't move, just tracks him with his eyes.

"We're so close," he says, before Reaper can say anything. He sounds exhausted, and a little distressed. "We're so close to figuring out how to fix this. And then you have another bad day, another bad week, and it feels like maybe we're destined to keep doing this, forever, like we ain't ever gonna make it."

"The briefing said that I love you," Reaper says, sitting down across from McCree. He wonders how many times they've done this. He wonders how long it lasts, and what it feels like when it's over. He wonders, fleetingly, if he ever makes McCree smile.

"You don't, though." McCree gestures with his outstretched hand at Reaper. " _You_ don't."

"No, I don't," Reaper says. "Not yet."

*

When Reaper wakes up, he doesn't know where he is. The room he's in is strange, lived-in, nothing like his quarters at the Talon base. There's a big window across from the bed, and sunlight streams into the room through a crack in the curtains. He counts three doors: a closet, a bathroom, and what's presumably the rest of the base. The bed is big, bigger than the one Talon had given him, and--it's not empty either. Reaper can hear somebody else in the room breathing, and the mattress shifts. 

In an instant, Reaper is on the stranger, fingers wrapped around his neck. The man flails awake, gasping, his eyes wide.

"Briefing," the man manages to rasp out through Reaper's grip, "Briefing...on the desk..."

Reaper relinquishes his grip; a briefing implies a handler, and Talon does not take kindly to their agents being abused. He retreats to the desk the man had gestured to and finds a tablet labeled REAPER BRIEFING. 

As is Talon protocol, it shows two dates at the beginning, the day the briefing first became available and the current day; here, it reads 2079/09/02 and 2079/10/11. Those dates don't seem right, but neither does what's currently happening in his brain, so he sets the worry aside for now.

The briefing starts: _Reaper, I know you probably don't believe this, but I'm you. The man you just hurt in the bed is Jesse McCree. You're watching this because something's gone wrong with Talon's conditioning. You've lost some or all of your memories, but you don't need me to tell you that. You need me to tell you how to fix it._

Reaper glances back at the man he'd attacked, McCree. He's settled back onto the bed, the sheets tucked around his waist, watching Reaper with interest but not alarm. He ought to be more worried, Reaper thinks, but then the briefing continues.

_Listen to McCree like you would any Talon handler. Trust him. He'll get us through this safely._

The vid ends. Reaper gets up from the desk and returns to stand by the bed, awaiting further instruction.

"Lie down," McCree tells him, motioning for Reaper to join him on the bed. A strange request, but the briefing had said to trust him, so Reaper does as he's told. McCree gives him a look that Reaper automatically knows means he's ready to start, and Reaper nods in return.

McCree's mouth opens, and while Reaper can tell that sounds are coming out, maybe even words, he's unable to tell what they are. All he hears is a sort of buzzing static, and his temples throb. His eyes squeeze shut, his head pushes back against the pillow as his back arches, the room seems to close in on him, and suddenly--

Gabe opens his eyes. Jesse's on the bed next to him, looking worried, and Gabe swears and props himself up on an elbow. "I'm sorry, Jesse," he says, pulling Jesse down to him with his free hand, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

At the sound of Gabe's voice, Jesse seems to collapse onto him, almost boneless with relief. "You're back," Jesse says into Gabe's shoulder. "I'm sorry I have to do that to you--I hate being one more asshole who screws with your brain without your consent."

Gabe sits up now, takes Jesse's face in his hands and meets his eyes squarely. "You're doing it to bring me back to myself, back to you. I could never blame you." He kisses Jesse soundly. "This is where I want to be, and you're why I'm here. I'm sorry I ever go away."

Jesse kisses him back. "We get through it," he says, brushing his nose against Gabe's. "We always do. I left you once and I ain't leaving you again."

Gabe smiles. "Not even to make breakfast?" he asks, and Jesse laughs.

"Well, maybe to make breakfast. This sort of thing really makes a man work up an appetite, you know." He grins at Gabe, kisses him one more time, and stands up from the bed. "You take your time; I know how much the change takes out of you. I'll be downstairs."

With that, he pulls on a shirt and exits the room, leaving Gabe to lie back down on the bed for a minute. He lets his gaze drift around the bedroom. He looks at the bed they share, the first real piece of furniture they'd gotten for the safe house; the dresser full of civilian clothes, still a little weird somehow even after all the time they've spent as ostensible civilians; the closet, with Jesse's serapes and his Reaper coats and the tac gear they're hoping they'll never have to use again.

He thinks about the person he'd been when he'd woken up this morning, and about all the time, hard work, dedication, called-in favors, luck and love it had taken to become the person he is now. This room, this safe house, this _life_ \--it's not a lot, but it's theirs, despite Talon and the universe's best efforts to take it all away from them.

He smiles to himself, and gets up to greet the new day he's been given.


End file.
